


i am a man with a heart that offends with its lonely and greedy demands

by buckybunnyteeth



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Childhood Trauma, Emotional Baggage, Implied Sexual Content, John Constantine POV, M/M, Mentions of Cancer, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Past Domestic Violence, hellblazer inspired
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-04-21 19:42:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14292039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buckybunnyteeth/pseuds/buckybunnyteeth
Summary: He likes Ray. Likes the way he rambles, the way his heart is still so good after everything he has seen and done. He likes the way he lets John hang out in his lab, the way he’s such a nerd about science, and show tunes, and chores. He’s a good man.John isn’t a good man.“Don’t worry, Gideon,” he tells the indifferent ceiling, feeling the shard of ice in his heart expand, “I’ll stay away.”





	i am a man with a heart that offends with its lonely and greedy demands

**Author's Note:**

> WARNING; this story takes heavy inspo from hellblazer and as such as illusions too Johns very bad no good lung cancer, him trapping his inner child away, and has an appearance from his abusive father. Trigger warning for abusive parents, but its nothing too graphic

 

"It’s a lonely life, but you’re used to it now, aren’t you?"

\- Ray Bradbury, The Fog Horn

 

“Hey.”

John looks up from the grimoire in his lap to see Ray leaning in the doorway. He smiles at the nervous scientist.

“Hey yourself,” he replies, “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah everything’s fine,” Ray says and steps into the room, the door sliding shut behind him, “I just- I have a present for you.”

John looks at him skeptically.

He’s been having trouble adjusting to life on a time-traveling spaceship. He’s decorated his room like the cabin, draped in tapestries and occult objects. Hell, he’s even managed to accumulate a large oil painting of Johnny Rotten that hangs over his door, an ancient _Enochian_ scroll he’s pretty sure is a recipe on ‘how to serve man’ that he’s tacked over his desk, and the floor is covered with a pink mottled shag rug that would (and does) make people gag. He’s trying to make it look as little like a big metal coffin as possible, but it’s not working. He’s trying to make himself forget that he is hurtling through the time stream. But the disconnect he feels, from the earth and wind and sky, lingers. He can feel a wrongness in his bones. Well, another wrongness.

He thought he was hiding it pretty well, but if Ray is deciding to give him spontaneous gifts-

“You didn’t have to get me anything.”

Ray sits down in the chair across from him, the one carved from Hazelwood and draped in an Aramaic silken scarf. The cabin is so small their knees almost brush. John has to repress a smile at how Ray very purposefully keeps them from touching.

“Oh well, I didn’t get you something per se,” Ray laughs and holds out a small wrapped box to John, “I made it!”

John raises an eyebrow at him but takes the box. He sets aside the grimoire to open it. He pulls away the paper and takes off the lid, revealing a small white and brown metal cylinder.

“A cigarette?”

“Not just any cigarette,” Ray announces, “An electronic cigarette. I noticed how Gideon was turning the sprinklers on every time you tried to light a normal one, so I made you this. It's smokeless so she really can’t have any objections to it. I also made various cartridges so if you wanted to quit you can use it as a surrogate without actually smoking any tobacco.”

John looks between the nervously smiling man and the gift, and he doesn’t know quite what to say.

Ray has been kind and friendly to him ever since he joined the team, so the gift isn’t a complete surprise. He’s just not used to getting them.

He can’t say that it’s too late to quit. He came onboard the ship with a reason and a limited number of hours on the clock. The masses in the lungs will be taking him away soon, carrying his soul off to The First of the Fallen. The missions on the Waverider are a means to an end, a stop gap until his final hour and a way for him to find a solution to his problem. No one on board knows that he’s going to die, or that he is using them to cheat death.

All that aside, he can’t help but feel touched by Ray’s gift.

He takes it out of the box and holds it between his fingers.

“I um, could make you a bigger one but Wally tells me ‘vape pens’ are for seriously uncool people, and I mean you-you’re pretty cool and I thought the familiar shape and size would be better. Classic, or-”

“Thank you,” John says, feeling truly touched. He’s a man who doesn’t let others see his emotions. But right now, he feels his mask slipping.

Ray smiles at him, and- oh.

Okay. John knows that feeling.

He has a soft spot for kind eyes and wide smiles. And Rays got them in spades.

John slips the cigarette back into its box and slides across his bunk, closer to Ray. Their knees brush and he delights in the way a blush spreads across the other man’s cheeks.

He remembers Sara saying something about three fiancés’ and no weddings. He also remembers a few longing glances and lingering touches that he ignored in favor of team dynamics. Johns has never been one to deny himself, though.

Mentally he damns himself for wearing a ratty old football t-shirt and tracksuit pants. Not his best seductive outfit.

Though by the way Ray’s eyes trail up his form when he leans closer he may be wrong about that. Ray’s eyes linger on the tattoo’s visible on his arms and he can’t help but smirk.

“I have this thing,” he says lowly, about repaying, “about repaying gifts in kind.”

“Oh, no you really don’t have too!” Ray rambles, face going bright red, “I didn’t make it for you to get anything out of it. I just wanted to do something nice for you, and-”

John lays a hand on his knee and Ray’s words stop with a gulp.

“And I’d like to do something nice for you,” he says softly, making sure Ray meets his eyes, “Tell me to stop and I will, mate. I promise.”

Ray looks at him, pupils blown wide and John is just about to slide to his knees in front of him when-

“Dr. Palmer,” Gideon chirps from the ceiling, “The Captain requires your presence on the bridge immediately.”

Ray whips his head from John to the ceiling a few times, before whimpering and fleeing from the room.

John sighs and flops back down on the bed.

“You really threw a wet blanket on my efforts there, Gideon.”

“I am aware, Mr. Constantine,” the AI says cheerfully, “I was acting how I saw fit.”

“Meaning what?”

“Meaning Dr. Palmer has had more than his fair share of heartbreak. I do not wish to aid you in hurting him further.”

John feels anger rise in his throat.

“How da-”

“I am fully aware of your medical condition, John,” she says, briskly but not unkindly, “I have not informed the others, but I am aware.”

John feels himself deflate against the mattress, suddenly feeling more tired than his age would allow.

“Oh.”

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair.

“I guess I should back off then.”

“I will not dictate your personal choices. Nor Dr. Palmers. I just thought you should think more clearly before taking such actions. Dr. Palmer isn’t the kind of man to have casual relationships.”

John can count on one hand the number of times he’s let himself fall in love. And he would have fingers to spare.

Sex, lust, fucking, he can do all of those. Being in love is a vulnerability he hasn’t been able to afford since the first time he felt his lip split under his father’s fists. Relationships are a fiction that other people get to experience, not him.

He likes Ray. Likes the way he rambles, the way his heart is still so good after everything he has seen and done. He likes the way he lets John hang out in his lab, the way he’s such a nerd about science, and show tunes, and chores. He’s a good man.

John isn’t a good man.

“Don’t worry, Gideon,” he tells the indifferent ceiling, feeling the shard of ice in his heart expand, “I’ll stay away.”

Gideon doesn’t reply.

Sleep doesn’t find him easily that night. He tries out Ray’s electric cigarette and loses himself in learning a new incantation. For the first time in his life, he misses the bookends of sunset and sunrise.

 

The weeks pass without any sunrise or sunset to mark the days. Luckily missions and ancient evils keep him from his temptation. His tall, brown eyed, dorky temptation.

He keeps Ray’s present in his coat pocket at all times.

John can tell that Ray has been trying to get a moment alone with him since that night. Either to tell him ‘thanks but no thanks’ or to try and start something again, John isn’t sure. He doesn’t let himself be alone with the other man. To spare his heart, his ego or John slightly out of control lust for the man, he’s not sure. Pick one.

Their pursuit of this week’s major annoyance takes them to 1922 London.

It takes them to Nergal.

In the last gasp of a dying man, they learn that a demon has been killing young widows by appearing as their dead husbands, and then stealing their souls back to hell. There is a battle with some low-level acid demons and John does a banishing spell, using Nergals name in a way that will make the team think it is just another magical word.

And it seems to have worked.

Until they get back to the ship.

Sara is midsentence about them all calling an early night when the lights cut out and the red of the ships emergency lights come on.

“Gideon?” Amaya asks, “Gideon, what’s happening?”

“I do not know, Miss Jiwe, I appear to be experiencing a system-wide shut down with no discernible origi-”

Gideon cuts off with the sound of static then goes quiet just as every noise from the ships machines goes silent.

John looks around, taking in all the members of the team. No one has moved from their places, and they hadn’t started the time-whatsits to jump into the time stream, so it can’t be a malfunction there. It has to be magic. John pulls his hands out of his pockets and opens his mouth to start a searching incantation-

But all the breath dies in his throat when he hears familiar footsteps stepping through the door and on to the bridge behind him.

No amount of years, no amount of drinks or fights or hits to the head will ever make him forget the sound of _those footsteps_.

“What are you doin’, Killer?”

The team jumps, shouting at the new arrival but John can’t move. His limbs have locked in place.

A chuckle comes from behind him. A smokers chuckle.

“Always a coward, aren’t you, Killer?”

The footsteps come again and move around him until John is face to face with a man he knows died decades ago.

Rotten teeth from smoking and drinking stretch in a grin over what once would have been a handsome face. He had to have been handsome at one point. Johns mother would never have given him a second look overwise. Now he looks like he did the last time John saw him. Old and flabby and sick to death with the stench of hate. Of vileness, of something rotting.

Beside him, he catches sight of something move and John flicks his eyes down to see a child. Blond and thin, too thin. His lip is freshly split, and his eye is dark. His hair is choppily cut, and his clothes are filthy, and he looks up at John with a look that screams _please save me_.

John moves his shaking body enough to draw the kid closer to his side, flicking his eyes back up to stare his sneering father in the face.

“John?” Ray says, from somewhere behind and beside him, “What’s happening? John?”

“Do they know who you are, Killer?” His father wheezes in a chuckle, “Have you told them yet?”

John grits his teeth a he feels tears start to well up in his eyes. He can’t move away, and he can’t move to hurt him. He’s trapped in the old fear of the child clutching at his side.

Vaguely he registers the others shouting, can see them unable to part their feet from the floor in his peripherals.

“Nah, you didn’t tell ‘em,” his father laughs, “you like it to be a surprise don’t you, Killer? Let ‘em be shocked when they meet their maker at your hand, ‘eh?”

John tries to say something, deny it, but all that comes out is a choked off shout and a sputter. His father leans closer, his blue eyes pits of hatred.

“When are you going to learn yourself? You kill everything you touch. You rot people from the inside out and you like it don’t you, Killer? No one is safe from you are they, Killer?”

The boy buries his face in Johns side and whimpers. His mind is screaming _no no no_ but no matter how hard he tries he can’t move. He’s too scared of the long-dead monster in front of him.

“You ruin lives and you revel in it. You killed your _mother_ , you killed _Astra_ , and _Gary_ , and _Anne_ , and _Zed_ , and your _brother_ -”

“No,” the word rips itself out of Johns' lungs with a herculean effort, “No!”

“Oh, oh oh,” his father laughs, “You got words now do you boy? You think you’re a hero, huh? You’re lying to yourself, Killer. You’re rotten down to your soul, all black and putrid, _just like me_. You’re worse than me, Killer. I knew what I was, but you trick yourself into thinkin’ you done good. That you saved people. The only person you ever saved was yourself and you know it-”

“Stop it!”

John gasps in a breath as a pair of wide shoulders fill his vision, standing between him and his father.

“What do you know!” Ray shouts, voice filled with a kind of anger that John has never heard come from him before, “You are a bitter, hate-filled, horrible man and you don’t know anything about John Constantine! Now get away from my friend and get off of my ship because _you are not welcome here_!”

Rays last words ring through the air with power and John feels some thread in his chest snap just as his father and the boy disappear. The team rip themselves from their fixed positions and Ray turns around to face him, eyes wide and concerned and the most beautiful thing John has ever seen in his life.

John has exactly enough time to think, ‘ _bloody hell I love this man’_ before he passes out.

 

“-diagnostics I can surmise that a psychic link was established between John and the demon you banished in 1922 London. It appears the demon was attempting to torment Mr. Constantine.”

“Why?”

“It doesn’t like British pricks,” Mick growls.

“That I cannot say, Ms. Tomaz.”

“Why would the demon single John out?” Sara wonders aloud, “I mean he was the one who said the incantation to banish him but we all helped to send it back to hell.”

“He’s the demon who killed Astra.”

John opens his eyes and sees the ceiling of the med bay, then the Legends team gathered around his bedside. Well, not beside. These damn uncomfortable chairs aren’t beds.

“In Newcastle,” he continues, clearing his throat and rubbing his eyes, “he dragged her to hell.”

“But that’s years from now,” Amaya says, looking down at him with concern.

“Demons don’t experience time like we do, love.”

“You knew it was the same demon,” Wally says frowning, “Why didn’t you tell us?”

John opens his mouth, but Ray beats him to it.

“He’s just been through a psychic attack, guys,” he chastises them softly, “I really don’t think we should be interrogating him when he’s so vulnerable.”

The legends share a look like they know John wouldn’t extend them the same courtesy before telling him to get better and leave the room as a group.

All except Ray.

John belatedly notices that Ray is holding his hand.

John didn’t feel vulnerable a second ago. But he does now.

“I was really worried when you just passed out like that,” Ray says with a sad little grin, “You just dropped down like your strings had been cut.”

“Psychic trauma,” John says softly, his throat feeling raw, “It makes people react in all sorts of ways.”

They sit in silence, John breathing through the mild panic in his chest and Ray fidgeting until it clearly becomes too much for him.

“You don’t have to tell me who they are,” he says aa bit frantically, “I mean I can guess, but you don’t have to tell me. But I would like to know why the disappeared when I told them to leave. I don’t understand how I did that.”

“I…” John sighs, rubbing a hand down his face, “I have no idea.”

“You’ve never seen that happen before?”

“That was a powerful demon, Ray. Nothing should have been able to make it leave short of an exorcism.”

Ray frowns.

“I won’t pretend to understand magic,” Ray says thoughtfully, “But do you think I was just so mad that the universe glitched and it worked?”

Ray looks down at him with such honest curiosity, his face twisted in an adorable frown, and John can’t hold it in. Hysterical laughter bursts out of him, jolting him up from his chair. Ray grabs his shoulders to steady him and after a moment joins in, face alight with his god damned charming smile.

“You know,” John wheezes as he comes back down, “This ship is so full of weird shit, I honestly can’t tell you if you’re wrong.”

Ray chuckles and squeezes his shoulders.

And John…

John is not a good man. He’s killed more than he’s saved, hurt more than he’s healed. Hated more than he’s loved.

And he’s weak. So god damned weak.

He leans in and plants the softest kiss he thinks he’s ever given on Rays smiling mouth and he feels the rot inside him recede when Ray kisses back and some of his light leeches in.

Rays hands cup his face, turning Johns head to kiss his deeper and John feels like he could eat him up. Take Ray into his chest and keep him and his golden, honest, like there where his heart should be and keep him safe forever-

Fuck that’s mushy.

Johns falling but Rays large hands keep him steady.

Ray breaks the kiss with a chuckle and leans their foreheads together.

“I’ve sorta, kinda, been waiting for you to do that since you blew smoke in my face that one time.”

John laughs, hand gripping Rays forearm to hide how much it’s shaking.

“What?”

“You were just so cool,” Ray explains, “I mean so cool. You could have asked me to do anything and I probably would have. Within moral reason, not that you would-”

John licks his lips to hide his smile.

“I’m pretty familiar with the feeling.”

_Minus the within moral reason part._

Rays eyes sparkle when he gets what he meant.

“Oh,” he sighs, “Oh, that’s-that’s nice.”

John kisses him again.

Ray literally shouted Johns biggest demons out of the room today. His pigshit father, the boy who never got to be a child that John still has in a box somewhere, and the literal demon who will never let him free. Ray overcame them all.

“Gideon,” he says, lips not fully leaving Ray’s, “Lock the med bay doors if you please.”

“Right away John.”

“Why would you-?”

John slips his hand up Ray's thigh but this time he doesn’t stop.

“-oh. Yep lock the doors, Gideon, don’t even for the love of god let the Captain in- _fuck_.”

Johns dying, slow and rotting. But there’s still some time to do some good.

He slips out of the bed and onto his knees, delighting in the way Ray tenses and then threads his fingers through Johns' hair.

**Author's Note:**

> okay i sort of wanted this to be longer but it wanted to be short. title from Sufjan Stevens song John my Beloved which is a banger my dudes. i love hellblazer, i love my johnny con job, tell me what you think and i may write him more.


End file.
